


Her Name Was Lola

by LacyMarie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Light BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 20:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2124477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LacyMarie/pseuds/LacyMarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets a lesson in who's in charge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Name Was Lola

              The night air languidly caressed Lola’s skin as she sauntered her way home. It had been a long day, and she was enjoying the peaceful breeze in the city park by her apartment. The sounds of scampering and shuffling by park wild life was becoming more and more frequent as Lola got deeper into the wooded trail. Closer than Lola felt comfortable with, a sudden snap sounded, as if the trunk of a large tree was stepped on.

               The hairs on Lola’s arms, neck, legs began to rise in alert. She was a street wise woman, instincts play an important role in her line of work. Slowly and carefully withdrawing her 9mm pistol, that wasn’t _technically_ legal (but don’t tell anyone), Lola sped up her pace toward where her apartment building sat.

              

_Rustle Rustle_

_Silence_

Lola stopped and stared into the trees, mentally cursing herself for not bringing her glasses on errands today.

 

               _CRACK_

A smaller branch broke, this time closer. Lola began to jog, but something was following her. She could hear panting in the distance behind her, gaining ground at a frightening pace.

 

               _BOOM!_

Lola whipped around to see a naked man lying dead, a single gaping hole blown through his chest. The light must be playing tricks, she thought, as she saw the man’s finger nails shrink from talons to regular human nails. Lola glanced around and saw two men about three yards from the victim (possible soon-to-be-perpetrator of her demise). The tallest of the men had longer hair, brushing his shoulders slightly, and was carrying a duffel bag and pistol. The other man still had his shotgun raised, pointed toward the body. This one was dangerously beautiful, and Lola felt a stirring within her. His hair was cropped short, military style, and wore an expression of distain, agony, and a crippling need for control. Just the kind of man Lola liked to break, the kind who needed permission to release their desperate grip on everything.

 

               “Hey, you ok?” Tall, dark and handsome called out.

               “Yeah, I’m good,” Lola replied, walking toward them. She forgot her gun was still in her hand when The General glanced down and smiled.

               “Nice piece. Too bad it wouldn’t have done crap.” He quipped.

              

               Snarky bastard. Hers was a damn good gun, she knew what she was doing. She really detested macho men. Always assuming women were clueless about weapons. Just because he got off the first shot didn’t mean she couldn’t have saved herself. She just had to get some distance, and make sure she didn’t kill a harmless runner with poor trail etiquette. Police tend to frown upon “oops, my bad” as a reason for killing someone. Lola was already fighting a _questionable_ reputation in this city, bodies in the park wouldn’t be helpful.

 

               Lola looked back at the naked dead man and realized “harmless runner” was most likely not this man’s role.

               “Thanks for rescuing me….uh, you did rescue me, right? Or are you guys on a shotgun killing spree?”

               “If we were random killers, you’re awfully calm for someone who thinks she’s in danger,” Tall said, furrowing his brow. He put his gun away, though, so Lola started feeling marginally better.

 

               “Nope, not calm at all. Freaking the fuck out, actually. But give me sarcasm, or give me death, I always say.”

 

               The General smirked, approvingly.

 

               “Well, ma’am..” Tall began. Lola cut him off.

               “uh-uh, ma’am is my 80 year old grandma. Call me Lola.”

 

               “Lola, huh? If you say so. I’m Dean, this is Sam,” General, now known as Dean, said, hooking his thumb at Tall/Sam, “and you’re definitely safer with us than you would have been with Howler here.” Dean gestured to the body.

 

               “Howler?” Lola frowned. She feigned ignorance, but she feared she knew exactly why Dean called the main that name. Images of shrinking claws and…teeth? Lola definitely remembered something odd about his teeth. Damn.

 

               “Dean, I gotta clean this up, can you make sure Lola gets home?” Sam said, approaching the body. Dean nodded and flipped his hand indicating for Lola to follow him.

 

               “My apartment is just a few blocks that way,” Lola said, pointing northeast from where they stood. Dean grunted an acknowledgment and they matched pace quietly toward her apartment.

 

               As soon as they reached Lola’s building, Dean’s cellphone rang. “Yeah?” Dean listened for a moment, then replied with an “ok” of some sort.

 

               “Sam took care of the mess, now you’re home. Do you even want to know what went down back there?” Dean asked. Lola noticed Dean made an effort to avoid ever looking her in the eyes. Now, he was looking off into the distance toward the park.

 

               “I’m fairly sure I know what happened, so I’m good,” Lola said. Her instincts were screaming. _Push, get closer, break him, set him free_. It was stronger than she expected.

               “But what I _do_ want to know is,” Lola stepped up to Dean’s rigid body, leaving barely a breath between them and brushed her index finger along his brow softly, “what happened in here?” Lola rested her palm on Dean’s chest.

 

               Dean’s body shivered slightly and he turned his eyes toward Lola. This time he really looked at her. Blood red lips, stark and bold blue eyes, jet black hair laying pin straight to her mid-back. Dean’s eyes trailed down Lola’s neck and drank in her ample breasts heaving from the top of her green tank. Down still, his eyes roved along her leather pants and black boots.

               “You look like someone who whips people for money,” Dean said, almost dreamily.

               “If the shoe fits,” Lola said, shrugging, with a sly smile.

              

               Dean’s brows raised slightly and a sparkle of deviousness appeared in his green eyes. “What’s the going rate for a dominatrix these days?”

               “Well, it just so happens I’m running a special today. Save me from being eaten by a werewolf, and your first visit is free.” Lola smiled.

 

               Dean raised his eyebrows nearly to his hairline, but to his credit, didn’t remark.

 

               “Yeah, I know it’s crazy to believe in things like werewolves, but I’ve seen crazier,” Lola lifted her gaze to her apartment window. She and Dean seemed to exchange an understanding look. Things in the dark, things done behind closed doors. Secrets. They knew about secrets.

 

               Lola reached out and clasped Dean’s hand in hers, leading him to the door. “Come, let me show you the menu.” Dean nearly tripped on the first step, but regained his balanced quickly.

 

               After a three floor elevator ride of terror, they finally arrived at Lola’s apartment. “Number 69, huh? Did you request this apartment, or just have dumb luck?” Dean joked, taking his mind off the rickety feel of the building.

 

               Lola chuckled, “Actually, it’s supposed to be 369, but I took the 3 off. It makes me giggle. Sue me.”

 

               Dean smiled and shook his head. He liked this chick. She made no apologies for who she was. It was damn sexy and refreshing. He guessed she would have to be pretty confident to do what she does, but he really didn’t know. Other than stores, movies and internet, his personal knowledge of what a dominatrix did was embarrassingly insufficient.

 

               Lola locked the door behind them, and let Dean into a room near the kitchen.

               “Dean, before we begin, I need to get business-y. Sorry about that. So 1- say ‘Orange’ if you want me to stop anything. If I don’t hear ‘orange,’ I’ll keep doing what I’m doing no matter what. And 2- I’ll just be honest, I want you, and I don’t get that need often. So this isn’t going to go like a regular client situation. Are you good with that?”

 

               Dean swallowed slowly, digesting Lola’s words, and became rapidly aroused. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t I pick my safe word?”

               “Do you have one you use often?” Lola asked. She knew he didn’t. She could tell he’d never normally let anyone have this kind of control. Her fingers tingled with anticipation.

 

               “No, ‘orange’ is fine.” Dean said.

               “So, you ready?”

               “Getting there,” Dean said, moving in to kiss her.

 

               “No, no stud, have a seat. I run this show,” Lola said, pointing to a large leather chair in the middle of the room.

               “You sure do like leather. A little cliché, don’t you think?” Dean said, acidly.

               Lola smacked Dean across the face, hard.

               “I said sit, do as you are told and do not disrespect me again.”

 

               Dean sat carefully in the chair, rubbing his cheek and staring icily at Lola.

 

               “I don’t think I’m really into this anymore, Lola, thanks but no thanks,” Dean said, but didn’t move.

               Lola glided closer to Dean’s body and ran her hands up his chest, around his neck. She looked deep into his eyes. “Let go. I’ll take it all away. You don’t have to control everything.”

               Dean’s face registered alarm for a moment, but settled on stoic. Stubborn one, is he? Lola practically clapped her hands. She loved a challenge.

               Slowly moving around the room, Lola grabbed a few items she felt she would need. Dean kept his head stationary, trying not to let fear make him curious. Or excitement, if he was being honest. He secretly hoped she would make him bleed, make him scream in pain. He longed for the simplicity of physical torture. Where the wounds eventually healed.

               Lola came up behind Dean suddenly, taking his hands behind his back and clicked cuffs into place around his wrists. Dean let out a low growl, its meaning unknown even to him. Next thing Dean heard was the rattle of more metal, his answer to its origin coming with the restraint of each ankle to the legs of the chair.

               “Do you think you deserve to watch, General, or should I keep you in the dark?” Lola purred. Dean’s jaw clenched, but he refused to respond. Lola smiled and made her decision. The reason less to do with Dean, and more to do with herself. She didn’t want to miss out on watching those beautiful green eyes gloss over when she broke him.

 

               Lola came around to the front of Dean and straddled his lap. Gripping the front of Dean’s flannel shirt, she tugged hard and the sound of buttons flying pinged around the room.

               “Do you like pain, Dean?” Lola asked.

               “Not usually,” Dean grunted, but Lola wasn’t convinced. Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out two clips with sharp teeth. Dean’s eyes grew wide. “What the fuck..”

               Before he could even get a coherent question out, Lola clamped each of Dean’s nipples with the painful bite of the clips.

               “Mother fu-“ Dean began to yelp, before Lola assaulted his mouth. She wasn’t about to have any pretense here, time was a-wasting. Lola reveled in devouring Dean’s supple lips. His tongue was firm and soft at once, and tasted like whiskey and apple pie. Sweet and bitter, a gorgeous combination.

 

               Lola leaned back and stood. “Yum,” she said, licking her lips.

               Dean was near panting, and hard as a rock. Lola quickly unfastened Dean’s belt and pulled it through the loops, then began to work on his button fly. Like a pro, she had his jeans and underwear around his ankles before Dean could really enjoy watching her undress him.

               “This hardly seems fair,” Dean said, looking up and down Lola’s fully clothed body. Lola reached around her back a second time and reveled a short leather horse crop. She slid the crop up Dean’s thighs and circled it around his tight and bulging cock. Dean whimpered at the contact.

               “Please, not there,” Dean whispered.

               “I will do what I please, say ‘Yes Lola.’”

               Dean ground his teeth before uttering through them, “Yes Lola.”

 

               With a piercing CRACK, Lola let the crop welt Dean’s chest. He gasped, but made little noise otherwise. Lola raised up and cracked him again, this time on his back. Dean flinched, but he didn’t even gasp this time.

               Lola noticed Dean’s erection was waning. “Dean,” Lola said, whispering in his ear, “let go.”

               Dean looked up and met Lola’s eyes. He saw safety there. She wasn’t trying to hurt him.

 

               Lola placed her foot on Dean’s shoulder, “Unzip my boot with your teeth.” Dean complied. Lola placed her other foot on his opposite shoulder, and he repeated the gesture. Lola laid the crop down so she could remove her own clothing. She was growing impatient, and the look of Dean’s returning growth was making her core ache.

               “I was only getting my ride ready, big boy. Are you ready?”

 

               “Yes.” Dean grunted out. Lola walked over to a dresser and grabbed a condom. Walking slowly to allow Dean to enjoy the view, Dean was grateful when she finally rejoined him and straddled his legs again. Expertly applying the condom, Lola lowered herself down onto Dean’s lap. She reached between their bodies and guided his large cock into her and she sank down in one fluid motion.

 

               “Mmmmm,” Lola murmured. So thick and full. She was going to enjoy this.

 

               Lola began to ride Dean slowly at first, but quickened her pace when Dean’s brow began to bead with sweat. Suddenly, she stopped and twisted the nipple clamps.

 

               Dean jolted in his chair, lifting them both and the chair off the floor. He glared at her with fire in his eyes, but this time he didn’t look as pissed. Making progress, Lola was pleased.

               She began to grind into Dean’s pelvis again at an agonizingly slow pace. Dean was breathing so hard now he thought he might pass out.

               “Lola, I’m coming.” Lola stopped again, and twisted. This time Dean didn’t jolt, he released a guttural cry. This was what Lola was after.

 

               Returning to the slow pace, Lola ground and raised herself slightly up and down on Dean’s painfully hard dick. She was torturing him in the best way.

 

               “Please,” Dean gasped.

               “Please, what?”

               “Please, let me come.”  


               Lola smiled, “Open your eyes, Dean.” He did.

               Staring at each other, Lola lifted up once more, and fell hard onto Dean’s cock, making him bite down on his lip. Then another nipple twist for good measure. Dean felt like he was going to fly apart in all directions.

               Lola began to feel her own warm gratification building inside her, so she sped up her pace again. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Dean to keep his eyes open, but every time he let them drift closed, Lola would pull on a nipple clamp. With each pull, his orgasm would shrink away and hide. Dean was pretty sure he was in some kind of sex hell, but he wasn’t sure he minded.

 

              

               At last, Lola stopped her ride and leaned in to Dean’s ear, “Give me all you got, General.”

 

               Dean smiled and sighed with relief.

 

               Lola rocked and pounded onto Dean’s cock, releasing her own heavy breaths while she tightened and came around it, her juices flowing down onto Dean’s balls. Upon her release, Lola grabbed the nipple clamps and pulled them off, leaving Dean’s nipples bloody, while hot semen spurted with increased pressure into the condom. Dean screamed a primal release while his body shook and writhed beneath Lola’s.

 

               Gasping for breath, Dean lowered his head and tried to regain his composure. “Please, let me out of these chains.”

               Lola raised herself off of Dean’s lap, disposed of the condom discretely, and redressed. Then finding the keys to her restraints, she released his wrists and legs.

 

               “I’m sorry about your shirt, but I have another one if you’d like,” Lola said. Dean could only nod. Lola went to fetch a shirt for him while he situated himself.

 

               Upon returning, Lola found Dean still in the chair, but he had pulled his underwear and pants back up. She handed him the long sleeved tshirt and he shrugged it on.

 

               Lola reached down and took Dean’s hand, leading him out of the room. “I’m gonna head out, look for Sam,” Dean said.

 

               “Take my card,” Lola handed Dean a light blue business card with her name and number, “Call me when you need me.”

 

               “I don’t need anyone but my brother,” Dean said, surprising himself with his sudden honest blurt.

              

               “I bet he can’t do what I can do, though,” Lola said, smirking.

              

               “No, no he can’t.” Dean smirked back.

 

               Lola looked at Dean with a serious expression, “Don’t hold it all in all the time. You have to release it sometimes.”

 

               “Hopefully I’ll find my release soon, sweetheart. When my body finally becomes ash.”

 

               “You wish for death?” Lola asked, sadly.

 

               Dean leaned in and gave Lola a quick peck on the cheek and opened the door. Stepping out into the hall, the door was almost closed when Lola heard Dean say,

 

                “Every day.”

 

 

**The End**


End file.
